Never a Friend
by elecktrum
Summary: "Susan promised Aslan that she would live," said Peter. It was a simple thing on the surface, to be sure, but the implications ran deep. Tirian pondered these words, coming to a grim and logical conclusion. "And you did not."


**Never a Friend**

By elecktrum

This follows my story _The Promise of Life_. We can thank a brainstorming session with Faithfulpurelight and much poking and prodding from the1hobbit for this one. All mistakes are mine, the characters are not.

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 _"Are you ever going to tell Ed and Lu why Aslan sent us back that first time?"_

 _Susan smiled warmly, and her blue eyes glittered. "Yes. I have it all worked out. I know exactly when I'll tell them: On my forty-fifth birthday."_

 _Because in Narnia, that was a day she would not have lived to see. Peter returned her smile. "That will be one to celebrate, won't it?"_

 _"The best ever. In the meantime, let them think we were too old."_

 _"I think perhaps we weren't old enough to stay. I say, Su, we're going to visit Polly and Digory on Friday. I think Ed needs a chance to talk judicial shop and Digory's the only one who can keep up with him. Will you come?"_

 _"Thank you, but no, Peter. But do try to get Edmund to talk. He's not been settled lately. I don't care to go not so much because of roast beef again as being expected to live up to the standards other people have decided to set for me."_

 _"Polly making her usual faces about makeup and socials again?"_

 _"Always. And pretty dresses and pert hats and high heels. She seems to think being fashionable is the equivalent of immoral, and all her vinegar is affecting Jill as well. She doesn't seem to gather I used makeup and did my hair and wore the most fashionable clothes in Narnia. Lucy too! Really, why should things be different here?"_

 _"Why indeed, good my queen. I'll make your excuses. It seems Polly and Digory can't let go of the past."_

 _"They're not alone. But I gave Aslan my word that I would live, and so I am, as fully as he would wish me to. It's my life, and I'll live it as I see fit. So what if I enjoy fine clothes and parties? I also enjoy classes and work and volunteering. It's unseemly for Polly to judge a queen, especially a queen of the land she so desperately wants to be part of."_

 _"She's jealous." Peter was astonished at this realization, and Susan came close to laughing at his expression._

 _"Of course she is, Peter! We had Narnia for a lifetime. Polly had it for a day. It's our home! We are Narnia. Who could ever get enough of such magic? Not I, and not you, and not Polly." She stood and leaned over to kiss her brother on the cheek. "You and your Friends go run off and play at Narnia. I'll be getting on with my life."_

 _He pressed her small hand in his. "As promised."_

 _Susan smiled again, delighting in the secret they shared as she squeezed his fingers and echoed, "As promised."_

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"King Peter, if I may?"

"You may only if you dispense with addressing me by my title every time we meet, Tirian. There are so many kings and queens about the Cair now it's scarce worth bothering with titles."

The last king of Narnia smiled, and then blinked as he glanced about the low-ceilinged chamber. It was a small, private library shared by King Peter and King Edmund, and it was here that they could often be found writing histories of the Golden Age. At once luxurious and cozy, comfortable and messy, it was for Tirian like unto stepping into a museum, for the objects lying about that to Peter were everyday things were to Tirian pieces of history. He could see Peter's golden seal, ancient navigation instruments, King Edmund's brown judge's robe, a battered traveling chess set, and there on the table was the gold key Peter had used to lock the stable door. There were shelves for scrolls and books and two desks set by the windows. Almost one whole wall was covered by a painted map of Narnia and the surrounding lands. It was so finely, beautifully detailed that the leaves on the trees could be picked out, and each branch of Beaversdam, and the royal banners of Cair Paravel. It took a moment for him to realize, but the pictures of people and places ere actual portraits, because he recognized the Dwarf smith Brickit of the Blue River Smithy.

"A marvel, isn't it?" asked Peter, coming to stand beside him, and Tirian hastily gave off staring. "The more you look, the more you see. Much of the history of our reign is contained herein. A Centaur artist made it for us and kept adding on each year. Lucy used to fancy the pictures could move."

"I would not be surprised if they did." Tirian peered closer, reading some of the names. "Pillar Wood. The Battle of the Rebel Trees. Loy. The Shattered Plains."

"Best not ask Edmund about that last one," warned Peter, and though his tone was light, Tirian heard a distinct note of caution. "If you want the full account, ask the Peridansons or Orieus."

"I shall. How strange, Ki - Peter, to actually hear the story from someone who was there as to opposed to reading about them in a book."

"Indeed, but it's much better this way, I'm thinking. How wonderful to be able to sit down with Frank the Founder and hear the tale of his first year in Narnia. We must do that some day."

"It would be most enjoyable. This room was very different in my time. A closet, actually."

Peter made a little noise of amused agreement. "That's because you came to see me. Had I come to see you, it would be as you recall. It seems there are as many Cair Paravels within this one structure as there are kings and queens and ages of Narnians who live in it now. But I'll confess it's a trifle disorganized. Our study, not the Cair, I mean. Left to our own devices, Ed and I are slobs. We don't let our valets in here to clean. They retaliate by trying to make us wear hats."

Peter's words made sense to Tirian, even the ones about him and Edmund being slobs. There were scores of kings and queens and their courts living here now in the Cair Paravel of Aslan's Country, but the palace never seemed crowded. The throne room was the only spot where all the different versions of the Cair converged, and it had been expanded tenfold to accommodate so many thrones. But for all the happy, cooperative royals milling about the place, feasting and dancing and reveling in the reward of long and faithful service, one throne upon the central dais remained empty . . .

"On the day we met, after you and your brother and cousin had woken the giant Time from his sleep and when I first went through the stable door, you said your sister Queen Susan was no longer a Friend of Narnia."

"I spoke in earnest, Tirian."

"Since you changed the subject so quickly then, I dared not ask further, but I was astonished that your cousin and the ladies Polly and Jill should speak so sharply of a queen."

"They spoke out of incomplete knowledge and no small measure of resentment. Anyone who would judge Susan's conduct runs the risk of questioning Aslan's word, though fortunately he knows ignorance when he hears it. Aslan has set a very different path before my sister, and she has embraced it fully."

"May I ask what it may be? When we all assemble I see an empty throne, and I cannot look away for the loneliness of it. How can Queen Susan have turned from Narnia?"

"That she is not counted among Narnia's Friends does not mean that Susan has turned from Narnia. Far from it. Think of your father and mother. Were they your friends in the way Jewel the Unicorn is, or were they teachers and parents and guides?"

"They . . . were parents. Very good and loving parents, I own, but I understand the distinction you make."

"So you agree that it's possible to love someone dearly and not be their friend?"

"It is indeed, though I confess I have never before thought on the matter."

"Prolonged exposure to Edmund will cure that, have no fear. However, you asked what is Susan's path and I will tell you, for I believe you'll understand more readily than her detractors. I ask you keep my words in your heart, Tirian, and speak of them to no one. When my sister finally assumes her throne, she will tell as much of her story as she chooses."

The confidence and trust of one such as Peter Pevensie, High King over all kings of Narnia, was almost overwhelming. For a moment Tirian felt weak, and then he swallowed and found his voice. "By the Lion's mane, I swear I will breathe no word of this."

Peter nodded, satisfied, and gestured for the older king to take a seat. Tirian sat in the only chair available, and then it hit him that he was sitting in King Edmund's chair, at the very desk where he had penned so many good laws, and on the robe he had worn when doing so. Unable to stop himself, Tirian stood and carefully relocated the heavy brown garment to the book-covered table. Peter watched him, understanding his companion's awe, and without bothering to ask, poured them each a goblet of wine as he got on with his telling.

"The second time we came to Narnia, in my presence, Susan made a promise to Aslan. It was not until that moment that we understood why Aslan had sent us from Narnia at the end of the Golden Age. Know that it was the wisest, most compassionate thing that he could have done, painful though it was at the moment, for it saved my sister's life. In return, Susan promised Aslan that she would live."

It was a simple thing on the surface, to be sure, but the implications ran deep. Tirian pondered these words, coming to a grim and logical conclusion. "And you did not."

"No. Neither I nor my youngest siblings took such an oath, nor yet Digory or Polly or Eustace of Jill. All the self-styled Friends of Narnia. Susan has always stood apart. Not aloof, just removed. So it comes as no shock that Aslan should ask more of her. I could slay Giants, Edmund won every tourney he entered, Lucy brought joy wherever she went, but Susan . . . Susan could move mountains. Steel rivals her strength. In our day she was called the Jewel of Narnia. Do you know why?"

"Her beauty is legendary."

"Rightly so, but that's not why she gained her title. Have you ever heard of adamant?"

"It's the hardest of stones," said Tirian, catching on. "A diamond."

"It's also the word for something unyielding. In every sense, Susan was and is adamant, as lovely and bright as she is steadfast in all things. To call her the Jewel in Narnia's Crown is to call her Narnia's strength - beautiful to see and hard to change. And so her promise to Aslan pushed her onward into the world whereas we Friends stayed behind. To be sure her brothers and sister supported her, but we lacked her momentum. We could not step away from the past so easily. Granted the past is a lovely place to visit, but Susan would not dwell there as Polly and Digory so desperately wanted to."

"And you, High King?"

Peter looked thoughtful, staring into the depths of his goblet. "I own I was afraid of forgetting a single moment. Aslan had charged me with a mission to find him in our world."

"Spare Oom," provided Tirian, remembering his history lessons.

"Where the magic is buried deep," murmured Peter. "The Lion gave Susan life, but to me he gave hope."

"It seems to me they are one in the same."

"You have the right of, good Tirian. He knows what each of us needs most."

His mind went back to the terrible and desperate night he had met Eustace and Jill, and he could not help but smile. "He does indeed. And I must thank you for your lack of momentum in my hour of need."

Peter smiled faintly. "These things do have a way of working out in the end. And in the case of Narnia, Aslan knows the land always needs a queen. You'll note, King Tirian, that but for you, every king of Narnia has a queen, but not every queen has a king. Narnia is a motherland and needs a woman on the throne to flourish best. And so you see, my sister Susan was never a Friend of Narnia. She was once and always will be her queen."

 _-Fin-_


End file.
